Twister
by KatNikki
Summary: Reiner has somehow looped Annie and Bertholdt into a game of Twister, but things don't stay "friendly" for long. Rated M for some mature content. BeruAni.


**A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry it's been so long since my last fanfiction. This summer has been ****_crazy, _****lemme tell ya. It's been difficult trying to write when I've been doing stuff in real life almost every day. Don't worry, though! I'm trying to get back in the groove of writing as much as possible, so expect some more content soon.**

**So some more BeruAni fluff for you! I've noticed that many of the fics for this couple are sad, so I try to add as much happy as I can. They start getting a little sexy in there, but they don't have sex in this fic because I kind of just got to a natural end. Like, this ****_was _****going to be a lemon, but then it just sort of wrote itself and the sex didn't happen. It's still kind of mature though, so viewer discretion is advised.**

**This fanfiction was inspired by a prompt I found on the imagineyourotp tumblr. The link to the post is here and the blog is here.**

**I hope you enjoy the fanfic! Reviews are appreciated, as always. ^^**

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"Left hand, red circle."

Annie lets out a growl as Reiner laughs out the command. Of course, it had to be the fucking red circle. It couldn't have been the yellow one right next to her or anything; no, it had to be the circle farthest away from her right hand on the green circle. _Fuck you. _Annie wants to say as she tries to stretch her tiny arm to somehow smack the edge of that damn circle. As her fingers reach, though, another much larger hand takes up the circle, a dusty brown fitting perfectly with the bright red. The growl Annie lets escape this time is much more sinister, her eyes giving shooting daggers at her opponent. There's a squeak and some profuse apologizing that follows as the sweaty player above her tries to retract his hand for her benefit.

"No, no, Bertl!" Reiner's voice has a ring to it that pisses Annie off even further. "You can't move your hand once you've placed it, remember?" Annie doesn't have to look at Reiner to know how he looks in this moment right now. She's sure he's leaned back with that damn spinner in his lap, his hands behind his head as his amber eyes – glowing with mischief – observe the game unfold before him. A part of her wonders if he's even using the spinner, or if it's long since been forgotten in favor of fucking with Bertholdt and her. The thought only furthers her desire to tear him apart when she wins this game.

Well, if she wins this game.

Annie has never been one to admit defeat. Unless she's down for the count (i.e. she's passed out or dead), one should expect her to get back up kicking and screaming. Even when she does lose, she'll ask for a rematch the minute she's figured out where she went wrong. Annie has always had that kind of determination; from academics to athletics, if there was a prize to be won, Annie would fight for it. It was just her way. For better or worse, this fierce ambition didn't stop, even in a game of Twister with her nervous boyfriend.

Annie has never been the type to go easy on anyone, family and friends included.

However, Bertholdt isn't nearly as bad as she thought he'd be. She's always been rather good at Twister for a plethora of reasons: she's small, she's flexible, and she's incredibly balanced. Logically, Bertholdt _should _be bad at this game because he's the opposite of her. Where she is a graceful flame contained into five feet while Bertholdt was an awkwardly sweaty package too tall for its own good. Someone should get tangled up in his limbs easily or slip on his own sweat, yet somehow he manages to hold his ground just as well as Annie does. When Reiner makes him practically bend over backwards to hit the blue circle he can't reach with his right leg, he's somehow able to contort his body to do so without falling down. Of course, Annie has come to realize that she's underestimated him when she should have known he would be perfect for a game like this: He's had to learn how to contort his body for almost four years now just to be with her.

"Alright, right leg, green circle." Reiner says, still laughing from his vantage point on the couch. Annie breathes a sigh of relief as she moves her foot over by one, bending her knee up for the sake of comfort. The position she's in allows her knee to rest on Bertholdt's middle, which is warm but firmer than usual, perhaps because he's tightened his abdominals so much to keep balanced. However, the squeak he makes and the red in his face causes her to question her deduction. She raises an eyebrow. _What's that for? _She thinks as she examines his face, noticing his eyes aren't trained on hers.

_Oh. _She suddenly remembers this morning when she was getting ready. Her bras were all hang drying in the closet while most of her shirts were in the washing machine. The tank top she chose was tight, but she hadn't thought much of it: She wasn't going anywhere today, and it wasn't as if the boys were going to care. However, the thin white fabric is rather see-through, and with Bertholdt so close over her, there's no hiding the pink nubs that must peek out from beneath it. Annie blinks, unfazed by his male gaze. _Well, _she thinks, allowing some devious ideas to come out and play. _Maybe I should use this opportunity to fuck with him a bit._

Using her extended arms as leverage, she pushes herself up to be only inches away from his hunched face. "What are you staring at?" She breathes harshly, trying to imitate being breathless from holding herself up. He tenses almost immediately. He must realize that she's caught him as his panicked green eyes snap up to hers, attempting to mask his guilty expression with one of nervous concentration.

"Oh!" He stutters. "I, um, I was zoning out. Sorry. I sometimes stare when I'm concentrat—"

"Right hand, yellow circle." Reiner interrupts. Bertholdt looks incredibly relieved by his friend's intervention, but Annie's not done just yet. She lifts her right hand to move to the yellow circle, but instead grabs the collar of Bertholdt's shirt. She's rough when she pulls him closer, whispering harshly in his ear.

"Liar."

She hears him drop to his knees, her own knee pushing into him further. Reiner is saying something to them as he walks out of the room – something like "you two are fucking horndogs." – but Annie ignores him, focusing instead on the heat that radiates off of Bertholdt and how his heartbeat is so loud and quick that she can hear it now. She leans in just a bit closer to growl softly in his ear, to breathe slowly onto his earlobe. He shudders. It makes her grin.

"Your boner is against my knee." She says. "So you can't hide from me."

His breath is sharp, and she lets her body drop. She doesn't let go of his shirt when she situates herself, instead pulling him closer. All the while, Bertholdt is trying desperately to explain himself, but his words fail him miserably. "I… wasn't trying to – I mean, no, I…" He nervously looks around, his eyes grazing everything in the room except her. She reaches up for his face and pulls it back down to hers, his stretched collar sighing with relief as it goes back to its place.

"Spit it out." She commands. He shudders.

"Y-you're sexy…?" He offers quietly, immediately shaking his head in embarrassment. Annie looks at him with her eyebrow raised again until she lets her lips twitch into the faintest smile. She pushes him back onto the mat and climbs into his lap, her tongue running along his lips before she goes in for the kill.

Her kiss is rough and hot while he shudders beneath her, letting his hands trace her back. His nails dig ever so slightly when she bites down on his lips and twists her tongue up in his. She lets her fingers trace his sweaty forehead and massage his tense shoulders, relaxing his body as he pulls her even closer. The way his breath hitches when she sucks his lower lip sets her on fire. She grabs one of the hands that's dug into her back and breaks from their kiss, placing it on her breast and looking at him.

"You were staring at these, weren't you?" She asks. This time, Bertholdt doesn't miss a beat. She watches as he looks down and examines, his thumb running over her nipple again and again.

"How can I not?" He replies softly, his breath shaking beneath the gentle smile on his face. "I… can't help but admire you. You're the prettiest woman I've ever met after all. I'm so lucky that you even let me look."

Annie turns her face away as he speaks, feeling heat rise to her face. Something in her heart jumps and sighs at the same time, making her vision blur for just a second as he moves his other hand to cup her other side. She closes her eyes for a moment as his massage soothes her, his words still ringing in her ear. Bertholdt has always treated her like a princess, and that's always been strange. Annie was used to tough love, to rough wrestles, and to words that matched. "Fuck you" and "you're not that much of a bitch" were the most affectionate phrases she knew. Then Bertholdt comes around with his sickeningly sweet talk and suddenly Annie's reduced to nothing but mumbled "yeah, yeah"s and "love you, too"s. The one eighty's shock, even if it's been years, has never faded from Annie's mind.

So she turns, eyes locking with his as she realizes his hands have found their way beneath her tank top. "That's the corniest thing I've ever heard." She remarks, placing a kiss on his forehead. In response, he gives her a little squeeze and frees her chest, going to wrap his arms around her waist. She puts a finger beneath his chin and nods at him. Bertholdt only smiles in response as he lifts her, taking her towards the bedroom. There's a pause as they pass Reiner's room, so Annie yells her command from the other side of his closed door:

"Reiner, go clean up the game in the living room."

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**If you have an idea that you want me to write, feel free to send me prompts. I'm open to (mostly) anything! Thanks for reading. **


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